


Bad Case Of Loving You

by virtualsilver



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe, Audio 02: Outbreak, Everybody Lives, F/F, Gift Fic, Ianto is director of Torchwood One, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28523160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtualsilver/pseuds/virtualsilver
Summary: The director of Torchwood One gets a call from Jack Harkness about some shady mind control program from the 1950s and has to go digging for old Torchwood secrets, only to find some unexpected revelations of a more personal nature along the way.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones, Suzie Costello/Melody Pond
Comments: 7
Kudos: 62
Collections: Torchwood Fan Fests: 2020 Holiday Exchange





	Bad Case Of Loving You

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for the [Torchwood Fan Fests](http://torchwoodfanfests.tumblr.com) 2020 Holiday Exchange for @bnator, for the prompt: “Ianto as the head of Torchwood One and having a rivalry with Harkness (Janto preferred endgame)”. I kind of failed on the rivalry part but the Janto is definitely there, and I made this an everybody lives AU because I could :) I hope you enjoy your gift! 
> 
> This fic was betaed by the lovely [itneveroccurredtomeatall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itneveroccurredtomeatall/pseuds/Itneveroccurredtomeatall), who was kind enough to help me with it despite me asking very last minute. Any remaining errors are mine.
> 
> Spoilers for Outbreak.

“Sir?” 

Ianto looked up from the pile of reports on his desk to where Lois had called his attention, barely leaning in past his office’s glass door. Once again, he had the fleeting thought that he should redecorate at some point; Yvonne’s taste in decor didn’t exactly reflect his own preferences. He’d been having that thought routinely ever since he’d taken the directing position in the organisation three years ago and he’d yet to follow through with it.

“Yes, Lois?” 

“Captain Harkness is on the line,” she said, a touch apologetic. “Again.”

Ianto had to suppress the urge to sigh. Lately, Jack had been taking every excuse to call him when his days were slow and he got bored. Which wouldn’t be a problem if Ianto was having an equally slow day, but their respective alien crises didn’t always line up. At least he’d only been catching up with reports today, for once.

“Did he say what he’s calling about this time?”

“‘Something about the Archives,’ sir. As in, that was a direct quote. His exact words were: ‘Something about the Archives.’”

He didn’t suppress the eyeroll. “Put him through.”

With a small smile, Lois went back to her desk. Ianto picked up the landline receiver and waited the few seconds it took for the call to connect.

“Jones, Ianto Jones,” Jack Harkness’ voice travelled through the line.

“You know technology’s moved past landlines, right? I know you like the old-fashioned aesthetic but surely you can make an exception about this for practical reasons. I have a cell phone. I’m pretty sure you even have my number if you bother to check. I programmed it into your _own_ cell phone myself.” 

“Oh, but then I wouldn’t get the chance to say hello to your lovely secretary. I always wanted a secretary. Maybe I should hire someone. Get some of that office feel going-”

“Do I need to reach out to the Cardiff branch employees to offer our Human Resources services again?”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about. We have no need for your stuffy H.R. suits here. Although, speaking of suits… what are you wearing?”

“I won’t dignify that with an answer.” He couldn’t keep the smile from showing in his voice, but he didn’t really mind. Jack knew his limits and he was very good at toeing the line without ever crossing it; a little innuendo-laden banter was a non-issue for him, so of course Jack kept doing this every chance he got. He’d actually given a reason for calling this time, though; he didn’t do that when he was just bored. “Lois mentioned ‘something about the Archives’?”

“Ah, yes. I need to cross reference something with your past cases files. I was hoping you could check it for me? Personally?”

Ianto stared ahead, unseeing, silent for a moment as he sat there in disbelief. 

“You want me to take time off from my very busy schedule running the main Torchwood branch to personally go through our files of past cases to locate one for you?” Jack leaned towards unusual at the best of times, but this was a new one.

“I can… make it worth your while?” Jack offered. He sounded as convinced in presenting his offer as Ianto was to hear it.

“And how would you do that?” Ianto asked, then immediately amended, “And remember that I’m at work and you’re asking me for a favour, so you do not want to be inappropriate with me right now.” Ianto had tried to impress upon Jack the need to stay professional while they were at work, but it hadn’t stuck yet. Probably because Jack could tell that Ianto enjoyed playing with the boundaries of professionalism almost as much as him, so long as they were careful not to let it affect their work.

“However you want,” Jack said, and the matter-of-fact tone coupled with the lack of innuendo set Ianto’s internal alarms blaring to life. “It’s kind of important. I’ll owe you one. And if I’m right you will have done your part in saving the world one more time, and I know how you love that.”

Gears shifting to work mode, Ianto fished for the earpiece in his desk drawer. “What’s this about? What do you need from our files? And why do you want me to go searching for it personally?”

Jack sighed heavily. “It’s a long story. Decades long. It goes back to the 1950’s, and to a very questionable project that I think has resurfaced. Except the only way that could happen is if one of the people involved with it unshelved it, and last I heard, the ones who shelved it was _us._ Well, Torchwood. More specifically, the London branch.”

Well, that caught his attention. As he put the earpiece on, he asked, “You think someone here did it?” 

“Maybe. Or maybe it was the agent that was assigned to handle it back then. Either way, it’s not good.”

“What was this project?” As he asked, he got up and touched a sequence on the buttons of his phone to transfer the call. Once the little green light turned on to show the transfer was complete, he put the receiver down and stepped away from his desk.

“You’ve heard of the thought police? This was a thought police project gone bad,” Jack explained. “Not that it ever could go anywhere good, but this was… mass hysteria and homicidal programming with a side of body horror-type self harm. It was _not_ pretty. And what’s more, there was no cure.”

“No cure…” Ianto said under his breath, putting the pieces together in his head. He nodded to Lois as he passed her desk, a placid smile on his face. Lois was as trustworthy as they came, but you could never be too careful. If there was a mole, he didn’t want to raise any alarm yet. Jack hummed in confirmation.

He stepped into the lift and signalled the floor he needed to go to, then signalled for no music. The lift was still sentient, of course, but after he’d taken over he’d taught it to respond to silent commands as well as spoken ones. And had given his employees permission to request whatever music they wanted. 

“So what do you want me to check?” Ianto asked once the lift doors had closed. “What do you need from our files?”

“I need to know if the virus that we fridged got out, or if this is something else. It’s too close to be a coincidence, but it might be a new version built out of old data. Check if the files are there at all, and who might have had access to them.”

The doors opened and he walked out into one of the storage floors, automatically heading for the rooms that would have the files from the 1950s. These floors were deserted most of the time, and now was no exception. It should afford him the privacy of searching for the files without witnesses.

“Okay, do you have a name for the program? An agent? A date?”

“The good thinking program. Agent Norton Folgate, it would have been around 1953.”

“You’re sure it’s the same thing? Have you had cases already?”

“Oh, yes,” Jack laughed hollowly, and the hair at the nape of his neck raised like hackles. 

“Jack?” Ianto demanded, sharp and uneasy all of a sudden.

“I’ve already called for a total lockdown of Cardiff. I don’t think it was released on purpose, but even one case would spread exponentially, and many people were already exposed.”

“Many people?” Ianto repeated, trying not to grit his teeth. “Your team?”

“I locked them out.”

“You lo- _You’re_ infected?!”

Jack sighed. Caught and unable to keep talking around it, he confessed. “Yeah.”

Ianto cursed up a blue streak. 

Jack gave a small breathless laugh at the filth coming out of his mouth. “I love it when you talk dirty to me,” he said a bit breathlessly. Ianto could tell the breathlessness was not part of the typical Jack Harkness flirtation experience™; it sounded like pain.

“Mass hysteria, homicidal programming and self harm, you said.” Ianto walked faster. He needed to find those files.

“I locked myself in so we shouldn’t have to worry about me going on a killing spree. But you need to stay away. I mean it, Ianto. I will want to kill you the most.”

“What, why?” he exclaimed as he hurriedly went through the cabinets, trying to locate the relevant files.

“You’re important. I’ll remember that.” 

He wasn’t sure what that meant, but he filed it to poke at later when he didn’t have more pressing matters to worry about, like Jack Harkness infected by a virus that made you want to kill people and harm yourself.

“Okay, what can I do? Is there anything that can help with the symptoms? Anything we can do from here to help slow down the spread?” He heard a vaguely unsettling scratching sound coming from the other end of the line.

“Shit, I’m already entering phase one. I thought I’d have more time. I’ll be hallucinating soon.” He sounded winded. “But Gwen and Tosh are on it. I don’t know where Suzie is, she had the day off. Owen’s trying to find something to… to stop it.” The scratching became louder.

“Jack-”

“Find those files. I think they can help.” A small hiss, more scratching. “Contact my team when you find them.” 

“Jack!”

“It’s fine, I’ve died from this before. Death kills it.” The awful laugh that followed that statement gave Ianto chills. “Don’t come. Please.” 

With that, he hung up.

Gritting his teeth, Ianto focused on searching for the ‘good thinking’ case files.

* * *

“Mr. Jones,” Owen Harper answered the call. “Tell me you found those files.”

“I did,” Ianto told him. “I’m scanning them now and… sending them.”

“Got them,” Dr. Harper confirmed a few seconds later.

“How is he?” Ianto asked before he could be hung up on.

“Not good. Good news is, he’ll live. He’s wound down a bit, but I think he’s still in phase one. Hasn’t started declaring his love for me or anything, thank fuck.”

Ianto winced. “Alright, can you keep me updated? It’s not a priority, obviously,” he added. The Cardiff team had more than enough to be getting on with. But he needed to know. _Torchwood_ needed to know, even beyond his own personal stake in it. “If and when you can.”

“Hm, yeah. I’ll try.” By his tone, Ianto guessed he was skimming the files already. Good.

Then he heard Jack’s voice, as if from far away, yelling at Owen.

“Is he with you?” Ianto pressed. “You can’t be in the same place as him, did he get out?”

“Hmm? Oh, no, he’s locked up. He did it himself as soon as he got into the Hub. That’s the CCTV, I’m monitoring him. Not that there’s much I can do, other than document the effects… Hopefully, these files will change that.”

Ianto breathed a sigh of relief. Jack might be able to survive the effects, but if he got out while he was homicidal, Owen would be in deep trouble.

Then, he heard what Jack was screaming.

_“Owen! Owen, let me out of here! I need to go to London! I need to find Ianto! Need to- I love him. I love him so much, please, Owen! Please! Where-”_

“Er, I ah, need to go- read these,” Owen said just a touch too loud. “Soon as possible. I’ll try to keep you informed. Bye!” And he hung up.

Ianto stood there, with his eyes too wide and his heart racing, even though… it was the virus, right? It must be. _‘First they know you, second you love, third you kill._ ’ He’d read that in the cursory skimming he’d done to make sure he had the right files. And ‘phase two’, Dr. Harper had said. That was the loving phase. Right?

So why… Why had Jack been talking about coming to London instead of being overtaken by love for Dr. Harper, who was right there, and who Ianto _knew_ Jack loved, in the way he loved all his team?

Holding a button on his earpiece, Ianto recorded and then sent an audio message.

“Lois, I’m investigating something. Something’s going on in Cardiff that might spill over here. Do-not-disturb settings until I say otherwise, unless it’s the Cardiff branch or an emergency.”

“Roger that,” Lois sent back.

Ianto sat down to peruse the files in greater detail.

* * *

Gwen and Tosh were running through the carnage that had become their city when their phones beeped to signal a message. They were too busy running from a madman trying to run people over to notice the blinking light in their phones until a bit later, when they were leaning back against a dirty alley wall away from any of the murderous throngs out trawling the streets of Cardiff. 

Tosh was the first one to see it.

“Owen’s sent some files. London pulled through, it seems,” she opened the files and started scrolling through them while Gwen acted as lookout. 

“Virus, three phases, highly contagious and they couldn’t control it. Oh, this is nasty.” Tosh made a face as she read the effects of the program. The reasons behind it were even worse, she thought. Mind control to weed out and punish ‘bad thoughts’, an Orwellian horror built from the ashes of the postwar red scare and a blatant misuse of alien technology. It was enough to give her nightmares.

“Anything we can use to figure out where to go next?” Gwen asked.

Tosh scrolled further down, reading furiously. “Maybe. There might be a connection here. Give me a minute.” She’d had an idea. Good thing she had managed to connect her phone to Mainframe, thanks to that little bit of rift flotsam that had drifted in last year. 

“Yeah, sure.” Gwen was happy enough for the break. She was still breathing heavily from all the running. 

“Ha! I got it!,” said Tosh out of nowhere a few minutes later, making Gwen jump. “Heights Pharmaceutical.”

“What?”

“It’s where the money trail leads to. I run a remote search with Mainframe. Look, there’s a local site that’s been getting some awfully suspicious deliveries lately…”

“Tosh, you’re a genius!”

Tosh smiled proudly. “Get me to the internal servers there and I’ll show just how right you are.”

* * *

Ianto read the reports, quickly but carefully, taking in the horrors brought about by the virus, dread filling him as he realised the dearth of the devastation it could wreak with a single infected person coming in contact with the general public. And yet, despite his best intentions, despite knowing there were more important things to be focusing on, he couldn’t help but think back on the words he’d heard shouted through the phone. 

He got to the section titled ‘Target Selection’ and took a steadying breath. 

_‘Almost all subjects become obsessed with a single target during phase two, who will carry over to phase three. Target is their romantic partner or interest in every case where there is a previous established romantic bond, whether formalised or not.’_

As he read the anecdotal explanation of each of the test subjects - who had all ‘chosen’ a person they were in love with as a target, Ianto thought back to Jack’s practised nonchalance when it came to defining or acknowledging what they were doing - what they’d _been_ doing for the past year and a half ever since they’d fallen in bed together after they’d collaborated to thwart that Cell 114 invasion. 

Ianto had thought this was just a friends with benefits situation for Jack, especially at the beginning, but in the past few months he’d… wondered. 

Jack had been adamant that a relationship would be a bad idea, that first morning after when they’d woken up in a hotel bed together after a tipsy night’s celebration had turned more heated than either of them had been planning. And, truth be told, Ianto had been just as happy to keep things casual back then. It’s just that… well. Ianto might have overestimated his ability to keep things casual.

In his defence, Jack had _not_ been acting in a way that Ianto would normally consider to be uninvolved emotionally, not with the way he would touch him as if Ianto was precious to him; or the way he’d pay attention to every little tidbit Ianto shared and then surprise him with little gifts that felt so special because they showed he both listened and cared, like the R2D2 action figure he’d given him for his birthday and which now had pride of place in his bookshelf; or the way Ianto would sometimes catch him staring at him with this soft smile that always made his insides squirm with contradictory feelings (but mostly happiness, and a little bit of hope); or the way he’d hold him through the night when they spent the night together; or even the fact that they’d been spending the night together more and more often lately…

He placed his hand on the report and let himself believe it. 

Okay. Okay. Deal with the outbreak first. Then… then they’d talk.

* * *

“Please, I need to find him. I need to- need to go to him,” Jack was raving behind the locked door. “Please, Owen, you have to let me out! Let me go!”

Owen stood before the room Jack had locked himself in, back before he’d succumbed to the madness brought on by the virus. Owen had been keeping an eye on him from the medbay through the CCTV as he worked, and then as he took that call from Jones from London. 

He’d got a lot of useful information off the files Jones had sent over; enough, it seemed, to synthesize a neutralising agent. He was banking on it, anyway. 

Gwen and Tosh were raiding a local site of Heights Pharmaceutical and he had finally managed to contact Suzie, who had turned out to be perfectly safe, spending her day off in an exclusive spa in a secluded area of the Welsh countryside. 

With Jack indisposed and Gwen and Tosh dealing with their own difficulties in the field, it had fallen to Owen to decide what to do, or so he’d thought. Suzie had set him straight about that; as second-in-command, she’d demanded to be read in, but Owen didn’t have time for that, so he’d sent her what files he could and told her to stay away for now, but to stand by in case they needed backup. Suzie had harrumphed, decidedly unimpressed with him, and so he’d _lowered_ himself to _ask_ her, very politely, to please stay away for the time being. It took some cajoling, but he got her to agree to stay where she was and that she’d call if for some reason she decided to run back into the unchecked madness that were the Cardiff city streets. 

But this should work, he told himself, dart gun in hand. He’d loaded three vials of the neutralising agent, though he really should only need one. And if it _didn’t_ work, he thought grimly… He checked his sidearm one more time, just to be sure. He wouldn’t enjoy killing Jack again. He still had the occasional nightmare about the last time he’d done that, the betrayal he’d been manipulated into, the guilt and the unexpected forgiveness that followed. 

Still - he told himself, trying to shake off bad memories - having a boss that could bounce back from being shot in the head did have its advantages. And he knew Jack would never forgive himself if he came out of this temporal madness to find out he’d killed one of his team.

Jack was still ranting and banging on the walls, asking to be let out and trying to force his way out in turns.

Owen squared his shoulders, took position as far away from the door as he could, and overrode the locks.

* * *

“Oh, Rhys,” Gwen muttered to herself as her cell went off again. “How does he always know the absolute worst time to call? He has a sixth sense, I swear.”

Only, once she managed to check the display, it wasn’t Rhys calling.

“Gwen!” Jack exclaimed as soon as she accepted the call. “How are things down there? Owen and I are on our way. With a cure!”

“What!?”

Tosh looked up at her cry of surprise. As they made eye contact, Tosh raised her eyebrows in question.

“Jack has a cure,” Gwen told her.

Tosh smiled wickedly, looking back down at the computer screen she had broken into. “Oh, yeah? Tell him I have another one.”

Gwen grinned brightly at her at the news. “You’re late. Tosh got there already.” She could hear Jack’s delighted laugh on the other side of the line

The door opened abruptly and Dr. Godalming strode through, stopping abruptly when she found herself staring down the barrel of Gwen’s gun.

“Race you,” she told Jack, then cut the call, gun steady.

Gwen’s grin never wavered, though it did take a slightly more feral tint. It looked like the day was looking up after all.

* * *

Suzie picked up the phone on the first ring.

"It's over,” Jack told her with no preamble. “We've all but wrapped things up here, all that's left is general cleanup and we can leave that to the upstanding folks of the Welsh Police.” She could only barely detect the sarcastic undertone in the ‘upstanding folks’, which meant the police force hadn’t annoyed him too badly for the duration of the current case. Small mercies.

Suzie sighed. “I’m glad to hear it, Jack. But you do realise this barely counts as a day off, right? I spent most of the day reading old reports and trying to keep up with this mess in case I needed to run in to save all of you at the last moment. I’ll be requesting time off again next week.”

Melody looked up from where she was lounging on the purple Victorian-style velvet settee, sipping an equally purple cocktail in her birthday suit. Suzie was pretty sure she was posing. It was working, of course; Suzie hadn’t been able to keep her eyes off her even as she accepted Jack’s call and tried to tune into work mode. At Melody’s raised eyebrow, Suzie smiled.

Mels grinned back; invitation received. 

She’d probably have to do some further persuading to get Melody to agree to spend her upcoming time off together, but really, seducing her occasional lover into agreeing to another date was half the fun.

Suzie listened to Jack grumble good-naturedly about her taking too much time off and where was her work ethic and so on, but he didn’t say no, which was as good as confirmation that he’d say yes. 

“We can fill you in on the details tomorrow,” Jack told her eventually. “Try to enjoy the rest of your day off.”

“It was not a day off,” Suzie countered. Jack hung up rather than give her a proper response. 

Suzie huffed, used to Jack’s antics. 

Melody got up from the settee with feline grace and wrapped herself up in the red satin robe Suzie had got her for Christmas. 

“Next week, huh? I’ll be busy helping out my best friend plan her wedding, I think. I wonder if I’ll be able to squeeze you in…”

“I thought you didn’t do weddings.” Melody had said those exact words to her enough times that Suzie wondered if she was taking the piss, bringing up such an excuse now.

“Oh, I don’t. I’m not going to actually show up at the wedding, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help my best friend pick her wedding dress.”

Suzie cocked her head, puzzled at what angle Mels was going for here. She was no stranger to Melody’s games, and Suzie had the bad habit of not ever wanting to back down, which worked out great for them.

“So… Your best friend, is she fit?” Maybe she was going for jealousy?

Going by the face Mels made in response, that wasn’t the game they were playing _at all._ Alright, good to know.

“Don’t even joke about that,” Mels said, playfulness gone for once. “She’s family to me.”

Suzie raised her hands in mock surrender, gaze slipping down to follow Melody’s slowly opening neckline despite her best efforts. “Alright, I won’t.”

By the time she’d managed to tear her gaze away from Melody’s cleavage and back to her face, she was smirking. Oh, it was so on.

* * *

With a sigh, Jack leaned back on the sofa in the main part of the Hub, where he’d all but collapsed after sending the team home. 

Today had been a close call, and he would keep an eye on the distribution of the vaccine and on Heights Pharmaceutical, but for now it seemed disaster had been averted. Well, mostly averted, he mentally amended, remembering the death toll from the preliminary reports. The senseless death of dozens wasn’t exactly getting out of it unscathed, but it could have been so much worse.

Resting his head on the back of the sofa, he closed his eyes and let himself relax for the first time in days.

And immediately bolted upright at the sound of the klaxon announcing someone had opened the cogwheel door. Had one of the team forgotten something?

But then he heard the angry footsteps and that gave the surprise visitor’s identity away. 

By the time the man reached him, Jack was smiling fondly in recognition.

“‘I’m important’?” Ianto Jones bellowed, sounding equally incredulous and peeved with Jack’s misdirection. Jack twitched; that hadn’t been one of his best evasions, true. But in all fairness, he’d been succumbing to a mind control drug that was slowly making him lose touch with reality, so he wasn’t exactly at his best when he said it. 

Jack stood up tiredly. “Well, you are,” he tried, raising his eyebrows convincingly.

Ianto stopped in front of him, crossing his arms and furrowing his brow fetchingly. The corner of his mouth was turned down in a way that never failed to make Jack want to kiss it. He was wearing the purple shirt, Jack noticed. It was one of Jack’s favourites.

“I talked to Dr. Harper while you were in phase three…” Jack wasn’t used to seeing Ianto Jones looking uncertain. Not when it was just the two of them, off duty. 

Jack took a cautious step closer, testing. Ianto didn’t protest. 

“You can call him Owen, you know.”

“He likes the formality from me, it makes him feel respected,” Ianto muttered distractedly, his mind clearly still on the previous topic of conversation. “Plus, I don’t think he’s forgiven me yet for being younger than him and technically his boss.”

Jack grinned. Took another step forward. 

Ianto searched his expression. He didn’t move away.

One more step and Jack had closed the distance between them. He reached forward to put his arms around Ianto’s waist and used the leverage to pull him forward the few centimetres left so they were resting against each other. Ianto raised his hands to place them palm down on his collarbones. 

“Jack…” Ianto murmured. “You never said.”

“Did it need saying?” Jack asked lightly.

“I didn’t know,” Ianto said accusingly.

Oh.

“I thought you did,” admitted Jack, words an apology and a confession all at once.

“I didn’t!”

“Okay,” Jack said reassuringly, pulling Ianto against him.

Ianto leaned in for the kiss, soft lips meeting his and noses brushing in a way that tugged at something deep in his chest that had lain dormant for so long he’d half-forgotten it was even there. It took his breath away unexpectedly; he couldn’t remember the last time a simple kiss had moved him this deeply.

When Ianto pulled away, Jack wanted to chase him, but it turned out not to matter, as he’d only pulled away from the kiss to throw his arms around him and pull him close, tucking his face in the curve of Jack’s neck and holding him against him. Jack kept one arm around his waist and raised the other one up the line of his spine, holding him back.

“Me too,” he said into Jack’s neck. “It’s you for me, too.”

Jack tightened his arms - in affection; in acknowledgement of the words; in celebration - and placed a lingering kiss on Ianto’s forehead. 

Jack had been running away from this - for years, and for good reason. He knew the price, had learned it, time after time after time, inevitable and relentless, as he lived through neverending loss, through breakups and betrayals and deaths. 

(The deaths were the worst.)

He’d managed, for a number of years, to beat back any fledgling feelings that might develop into more of that ubiquitous loss, but eventually he’d slipped. He’d _been_ slipping for a while now, only half-aware, letting people past his defenses, and he knew the fall would be devastating, he _knew_ , but oh, the flight would be glorious.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he let the last of his reservations go. 

“Stay?” He murmured the question into the shell of Ianto’s ear. “Tonight?”

Ianto took a shuddering breath, arms still holding tight.

“Yeah.” 

**Author's Note:**

> You can like/reblog this fic on tumblr [here](https://this-is-quite-homoerotic.tumblr.com/post/639284044236980224/fic-bad-case-of-loving-you)!


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